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London Prep: Book Two

Page 8

by Dodd, Jillian


  I try to shrug off my anger, pushing aside our conversation as I walk into the kitchen.

  “Oh,” I say, looking down to see a girl sitting at the kitchen table.

  “Mallory,” Helen says, glancing up from the kettle at me. Her rosy cheeks catch my attention, and I look between Helen and the girl at the table. “I’d like you to meet Sophia Burke. Sophia,” she says, “this is Mallory James.”

  I glance down, watching Sophia stand up from the table.

  And I instantly recognize her when I hear her name. She’s the girl from the party. Mia’s best friend. The one who was cozying up to Noah.

  I try not to scowl at her, wanting to be polite for Helen’s sake.

  “Hi,” I say, giving her a tight smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  She’s still in her uniform, and her golden skin glows against her white shirt.

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” she replies genuinely.

  Her chocolate-brown eyes are warm, but they disconnect from mine the minute Noah steps into the kitchen behind me.

  I take in her sparkling eyes and turn in his direction.

  “Noah,” she says over my shoulder as I watch his expression.

  When his gaze lands on her, his sucked-in cheeks relax, his whole face brightening.

  “Hey.” He smiles.

  I glare at him while my back is turned to her, but the second he shifts past me, I pretend everything is fine.

  He places a kiss on each of Sophia’s cheeks and sits down at the table.

  “I invited Sophia round for tea,” Helen says, putting cups onto the table. She smiles at me.

  And I remember what she said before.

  About Sophia probably needing a friend. She invited her over for me.

  So I could get to know her.

  I try not to sigh as I sit down at the table, wanting to be on my best behavior for Helen.

  But I’m seated across from Noah and Sophia. They’re smiling at one another and talking, and all I can think about is yanking her silky black hair.

  “We haven’t seen you around since Mia left for Greece,” Helen continues, joining us at the table.

  She’s laid out a few biscuits onto a plate, and she starts pouring us each a cup of tea.

  “I know,” Sophia says, putting both of her hands around her cup. “Things in theater have been mad this term. We’re working on a new production, and it’s been keeping me after school most days of the week.”

  She looks sincere, but I can’t help but narrow my eyes in at her.

  But you weren’t too busy to go to Naomi’s birthday party last week, now were you?

  And there’s nothing I hate more than someone who always has an excuse. I sit up straighter in my chair, glancing over at Noah. He’s nodding his head at her, totally absorbed.

  “I bet it has,” Helen agrees, taking a sip of her tea before looking over at me. She nods her head toward Sophia, urging me to say something.

  And I get the point.

  “So, how long have you and Mia been friends for?” I ask, trying to make conversation.

  Sophia looks up at me, her cheeks becoming warm.

  “Since they were in diapers,” Noah comments, his lips pulling into a smile.

  “Hey,” she scolds him, batting against his arm. “You were in diapers then too.”

  Their entire encounter makes my stomach twist, and I take a sip of my tea, trying not to down it all at once so I can excuse myself and leave the table.

  “Oh, that’s cute,” I comment, looking between them. “So, you grew up together, like siblings.”

  Ha!

  Take that, flirty Sophia.

  “Sort of,” Sophia replies, her eyes shifting as she thinks. “We’ve always been close. I mean, I’ve known Mia and Noah forever.”

  “Really?” I reply, trying to question her statement while still seeming interested.

  Because how am I supposed to compete with that?

  I mean, she’s known him forever. They have history.

  Blah, blah, blah.

  And not that it even matters, but it’s not the length of time you’ve known someone, but how well you actually know them.

  It’s not like she’s been around while I’ve been here.

  If she were that close to Noah, she would have been here while Mia was gone.

  I try not to smile to myself.

  “I thought it might be fun for you two to meet,” Helen says, cutting in. And apparently, she’s getting straight to the point. “Since Mia’s gone and Mallory’s new here, I thought you girls might like a chance to get to know one another.”

  Helen smiles, looking between Sophia and me.

  I nod at Helen, knowing that she’s trying to help.

  “It can be hard to make friends,” Sophia confirms, nodding her head.

  I do my best not to roll my eyes at her.

  “I actually am getting to know Naomi Fleming,” I add, wanting her to know that it’s not like I’m friendless. “You were at her birthday party, right?” I ask, like it isn’t obvious that I already know the answer.

  Sophia’s lips pull to the side, and I can already tell that she doesn’t like Naomi.

  “I know Naomi,” she states. “She’s nice but a bit too absorbed with parties and shopping for me.”

  “What are you into then?” I ask, not liking the way she spoke about my friend. And it wasn’t what she said as much as her tone. Her attitude.

  Because Naomi is kind and sweet.

  Noah glances over at me, his brow furrowing. I don’t give him any reaction because he needs to stay out of this.

  “I prefer people who care about things that matter. Who actually like to have real conversations,” she says with a lot of judgment in her voice.

  “Gotcha.”

  I don’t add anything else. I just cross my arms over my chest.

  “Well,” Helen says, noticing the lag in conversation, “can I pour you another cup, dear?” she asks Sophia.

  “That’s all right. I’d better head home,” she replies before standing up from the table. “It was nice seeing you, Noah.”

  She smiles at him before turning toward me. I stand up too, pushing my skirt flat.

  “It was nice to meet you, Mallory,” she says plainly.

  “You too,” I reply, wanting the formalities to be over and for her to leave.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Helen says, taking Sophia’s arm.

  As they leave the kitchen and head to the front door, she glances over her shoulder at Noah. And the second they’re out the door, Noah is at my side.

  “Are you mad?”

  “What?” I comment, scowling more at myself than at him.

  “You were rude,” he states.

  “I was polite enough. Besides, what she said about Naomi was rude,” I comment, rinsing out our cups.

  “She answered your question,” Noah says, crossing his arms.

  His white shirt pulls across his chest, and I force myself to look away.

  “You don’t need to stand here and defend her, Noah. She’s gone,” I say, trying not to throw the cup into the sink and smash it into pieces.

  “Defend her?” he says, leaning against the counter.

  “Yes,” I practically yell. “It’s obvious.”

  I storm out of the kitchen. I’m halfway up the stairs when Noah stops me.

  “What’s obvious?”

  “That you like her. You made me feel like shit this afternoon about not telling you about Harry. Well, you know what? You didn’t tell me about her. I saw you two at Naomi’s party. And, by the way, if she hates Naomi, why go to her party? Seems pretty weird, right?” I ask, pushing my hair off my face.

  Noah drops his shoulders, his face softening. “She’s my sister’s best friend. Nothing is going on,” he replies.

  I bite my lip, feeling like my head might pop off at any minute. “She was flirting with you, Noah. And the guys told me about her. That she’s wild. I’m not sure that’s your
type, but maybe you just want to have fun with her. All I know is that I’m done with this. All of this.”

  I turn around and march the rest of the way up the stairs.

  In my room, I pace.

  I’m frustrated.

  Hurt.

  I was a complete bitch to Sophia.

  I know I was.

  And Helen will probably never forgive me.

  I look at Mia’s wall. At all the photos hanging. It’s easy to spot Sophia in at least half of them. It’s like I can’t escape her now. I throw myself onto my bed, burying my head into the pillows, and cry.

  A few minutes later, the door to my room opens up, and I hear footsteps.

  I keep my head buried, not wanting to come out of the protective shell surrounding me.

  “Dear, what’s wrong?” I feel the bed give as Helen sits down and gently rubs my back.

  “I’m so sorry,” I sob, not able to control myself.

  “Oh, hush,” Helen soothes, now patting my back.

  “I was a jerk to Sophia.” I know I need to address it before she does. “And I promise,” I say, sitting up, “I will apologize to her at school tomorrow.” I wipe at my eyes, looking at Helen.

  “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?”

  I lay my head back down, rolling onto my side. “Noah and I got into a terrible fight after school,” I admit, needing to talk. “On Saturday, Harry was such a jerk to me, and I thought that whatever we’d had was over. But then he showed up here, apologized, and asked me to be his girlfriend. I said that seemed like too much, too soon and suggested that we might date first. Tomorrow night is supposed to be our first proper date.” I stop and smile at her. “You inspired that, by the way.”

  Helen nods at me, so I keep going.

  “Anyway, I hadn’t told Noah about it yet, and I guess he found out from someone else. He was really upset with me, and we got into this huge fight. So, when I came back to the house, well, I wasn’t ready for company, I guess,” I say, covering my face with my hands.

  “Mallory, everyone has bad days,” she says, patting my back again. “But you have to learn to control yourself. Sophia is a sweet girl, and you need to apologize to her.”

  “I know,” I reply.

  “But why don’t you tell me what this is really about?” she says, leaning closer to me.

  I sit up, putting my back straight against the headboard, and give her a shrug.

  “I guess I was jealous,” I admit. “She and Noah have history. And … we’ve become close,” I say, my voice faltering.

  “I know you have. You have both been through a lot, it seems.”

  “We have.” I nod at her. “I think, after our fight and then coming home to see how close they are, I just reacted.”

  “Why don’t you lie down for a bit? Are you hungry?” she asks, her eyes softening.

  I shake my head. “No, I actually have to finish my art project. It’s almost done,” I say, feeling a little better.

  The thought of giving the project to Helen makes me feel happy. I really hope she likes it. I wonder how long it will take to get it back. If it will be graded and back to me before my three weeks are up.

  “Noah mentioned that Harry has a squash competition tonight,” Helen adds, and I’m not sure if she’s trying to change the subject or ask me if I am going.

  “Yeah,” I reply. “He mentioned that at school today. I think he would like it if Noah, Mohammad, and I were there.”

  “Tell you what. Finish your project, come down for dinner, and then you should be off. Have a little fun tonight. You and Noah will make up.”

  I nod at her, doing my best to give her a smile. “Thank you.”

  She gets up off my bed and then leaves me alone in the room.

  I move to the desk, sitting down in front of the mirror. Mascara is streaked down my cheeks. I’m a mess. I wipe at my face, brush my hair, and spritz on some perfume, hoping that might make me feel better. I put on pajamas, deciding if I have to do homework, I might as well be comfortable.

  Then, I think about the squash competition tonight.

  About seeing Harry.

  I try to focus on that feeling.

  I pull out my project and my clippings, deciding to finish gluing on my sunrise before I write my paragraph. It doesn’t take me much time, and it sort of surprises me how much I can get done when I really sit down and focus.

  I write out my emotion, deciding on love. I explain Helen’s story and how Mia is coming full circle for her mother’s history. I write about how, even though I’ve never met her, I can see the love that her mom has for her, and I explain how the colors represent each of them, the sunrise focusing on Greece. By the time I’m done writing, I have a lot more than a paragraph.

  I go downstairs to find out when dinner is. I find Helen over the stove, boiling a pot of potatoes.

  “Hi,” I say, coming into the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”

  “Why don’t you go fetch Noah?” she responds, not looking at me. “Dinner’s almost done.”

  I don’t argue with her.

  I think I’ve given up on arguing today.

  I shuffle upstairs, feeling defeated. When I get to Noah’s room, I make sure to knock and wait for his voice before I go inside.

  “Yeah?” I hear.

  I open the door and peek my head in, finding Noah in front of the TV, game controller in hand.

  “Your mom wanted me to tell you dinner’s almost ready,” I say with as little emotion as possible.

  “All right.” He has on shorts and a T-shirt now, his dark hair a bit of a mess.

  I want to leave his room, but instead, I crawl into his bed. Noah glances at me but doesn’t say anything.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally whisper when I get tucked under his comforter. “I was a jerk today. To you. To Sophia. You were right about everything. I lied,” I say, wanting to get it out of the way.

  To get this weight off of my chest.

  Noah pauses his game and turns around. “I know.”

  I nod at him, not managing a smile. I feel like I can’t manage anything right now.

  Noah gets up and comes toward the bed, his eyes scanning my face. “You’ve been crying?” he observes, his face softening.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?” he asks, tilting his head at me.

  I push my head back into his pillow, my stomach doing flips. “I was upset with myself. And … I felt like I was losing you.”

  I look up at Noah, taking in his calm demeanor. His jaw twitches at my words, but he sits down on the edge of the bed.

  “You could never lose me, Mal.” He scoots me over, resting his back against his headboard.

  “I don’t want to fight,” I reply, turning toward him. “But I don’t want to be fake friends with you either.”

  “I reacted badly today. And I was a bit harsh,” Noah admits. “I’m sorry too.”

  He looks over at me, his lips pulling at the corner.

  “Yeah?” I ask, hoping that we can finally be done with all of this.

  “Yeah. We’re friends. Real friends. And friends fight. But then they make up,” he says, giving my shoulder a little push.

  “Good,” I sigh, slipping further down into Noah’s bed. I cover my head with his comforter, taking in the darkness and silence.

  “Having a nice time under there?” he asks, sounding amused.

  “I’m just resetting myself,” I reply, sucking in a deep breath, letting go of everything that’s happened today.

  “You’re not a computer,” he says with a laugh.

  I roll my eyes, coming out from under the covers. “Obviously. But I still need to take a minute for myself every now and then.”

  “And you decided to come and do that in my room?” Noah asks, a grin on his face now.

  “What can I say? I guess you were right this morning. I like to be alone, but I like having company while doing it.” I laugh, knowing that I make no sense.

&nb
sp; “I told you,” he replies, biting his lip. “Come on. We’d better head down for dinner.”

  A fresh start.

  7:00pm

  When we get to Harry’s squash match, I’m feeling like myself again. Things between Noah and me are better, which means that Mohammad won’t be upset with me anymore. I easily spot him, and when his gaze lands on the two of us, he waves. I grin at him.

  “Hey,” I say, walking over to where he’s standing.

  “All right?” Mohammad asks, looking between Noah and me.

  “Good, mate. You seen Harry yet?” Noah asks, surveying the area.

  “Yeah.” Mohammad nods. “He went back in to get changed already. Should be out in a few.”

  I look around the gym, taking in the long hallway lined with glass doors. There are a few bleachers against one wall, all facing the encased courts.

  “Do people normally come to squash matches?” I ask, curious.

  “Nah,” Mohammad says, answering first. “But it’s sort of our tradition to come. Mostly to see if Harry will make an ass of himself or if he’ll actually try that day.”

  “Really?” I ask, scrunching up my nose.

  Noah nods. “It’s a shame really. Despite not giving a fuck, Harry’s one of the best on the home team.”

  “Sounds like Harry,” I comment, shaking my head.

  “Noah’s always sour about it because he would probably kick both of our asses in our own sports if he gave it any effort at all,” Mohammad replies.

  “That’s going a little far,” Noah says.

  “Well, he would definitely kick my ass at tennis.”

  Noah nods, obviously agreeing.

  “I’ll go find him,” Noah says, getting up.

  I can tell he’s antsy, his foot bouncing on the ground.

  “Sounds good,” I agree, happy to have Mohammad alone for a minute.

  “Let’s sit,” he says, walking over toward the bleachers. He has on a black polo and jeans, but his usually pearly whites aren’t anywhere to be found.

  “Intercept any good notes today?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

  Mohammad looks over at me, giving me his I’m not falling for this bullshit talk eyes.

  “Fine,” I state. “You should know that Noah knows. We talked through everything, so you have nothing to worry about.”

 

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